If only I could tell you what exactly you meant to for all the years you meant it, then perhaps I wouldn't have this pang of loneliness whenever I think about you. Today is hard because I know it's your birthday and I don't get the opportunity to reach out and say Happy Birthday. Or I love you. Or anything at all really.
I keep up with you vaguely every now and then. We share a mutual friend and every so often, I'll check in and see how you are doing without you being none the wiser. I find myself checking in less and less as time goes by and you have proven that you are no longer a danger to me or to yourself. I guess I was always more worried about the danger you posed to yourself than the danger you posed to me even though everyone else was concerned with my safety. The more time passes, the more stable I see you acting yet I never am tempted to actually contact you. It's as if I have convinced myself that if I were to do that, you would lose the control you seem to working so hard to achieve. I once told you we were bad for each other and I think that's still true in the simplest of ways.So I keep my distance and my silence and every night before I sleep I say a prayer for you.
This is Just Write, a free-writing exercise in which you sit down with no writing agenda, no pushing for a theme. Watch the details of your stories ignite their own meaning from within.